


I Got Your Solution

by orbiting_saturn



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Drunk Sex, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-23
Updated: 2012-08-23
Packaged: 2017-11-12 17:08:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/493662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orbiting_saturn/pseuds/orbiting_saturn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt fill: "Sam gets REALLY horny when drunk. It's a problem."</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Got Your Solution

Sam gets _really_ horny when he’s drunk. It’s not usually a problem. Dean gets _really_ grabby when _he’s_ drunk. And therein lies the problem. 

They don’t usually get drunk together. It’s a survival instinct they picked up a few years back when it became clear that they’d never know when something was gonna come for them. It’s better to have at least one of them sober at time to watch both of their backs. Sam’s become the sober driver by default, not literally, metaphoric-like. 

Back to the problem at hand. Thing is, Dean “missed these talks”, so he started in on a fresh bottle as soon as they got back to hotel. Sam suspects it’s an empty excuse to cover for how rattled Dean is by the whole Bobby thing. Either way, Sam is drunk and horny, Dean is drunk and handsy. 

Dean’s all up in Sam’s space, grasping at his sleeve, tipping his head onto Sam’s shoulder, laughing hot breath into Sam’s neck. He’s reliving the hunt, “remember the tai chi? Hahaha!” like it hadn’t happened just hours ago. Of course, Sam remembered, but how can he think on it with Dean’s hand is creeping up his back, sliding over his sweat-dampened neck, fingertips sifting into his hair. 

Most of the time Sam can ignore the fact that Dean is the only person he sees naked on a regular basis. It’s one of those things that snuck up on Sam out of nowhere, this strange sudden awareness of Dean being all that was immediate and there to him, the only thing constant and warm-blooded in Sam’s life. It doesn’t usually bother him, there are worse things he could look at every day, worse voices to have in his ear. Dean’s skin is the only skin Sam feels most days, but Dean has nice skin. 

It’s only a problem when Sam is drunk. Like now, now he’s _really_ drunk and horny and Dean is a warm mass of tight muscles and thick bones beside him. He’s draped across Sam’s side, the tips of his gel-spiked hair prickling Sam’s cheekbone. Sam’s been more than half-hard for the past hour and it’s going nowhere fast. 

“How’s yer back, Sammy, huh? That shojo bitch threw you pretty hard,” Dean slurs wetly, and Sam can’t help thinking of how slick his lips looked around the lip of that bottle. “Dented the wall, ya fuckin’ moose,” Dean continues on a tipsy chuckle. 

Dean’s hand slips back down, ghosts light touches over Sam’s bruised shoulders. “Better check you out, brother, let’s see it.”

Eyes drifting shut, Sam sways a little, remains horizontal only by the prop of Dean’s body against him on the bed. Dean’s arms come up around his shoulders, fingers pluck the edges of his over-shirt wide, pull it open and tug. “Off,” Dean demands, bossy little fucker that he is.

There’s a slight ache, nothing too major, when Sam rolls his shoulders to slip out of the flannel. “Arms up.” Dean, again with the bossing, but Sam doesn’t complain because shirtless sounds like an awesome idea. So, he complies and raises his arms high, lets Dean grasp the hem of his t-shirt and drag it up, fingernails catch-dragging over Sam’s flanks, eliciting a shiver and a shunted whuff of breath. 

Dean has to get up on his knees behind Sam to reach and drag the soft cotton all the way off. His rough fingers curl around Sam’s wrists and he wavers a little, the rasp of Dean’s jeans chafe the exposed skin of Sam’s back. That gets a little moan out of him. 

“Geez, Sammy, a little sensitive or what?” Dean teases, playfully scratching his nails down the length of Sam’s raised arms. Sam huffs irritably and drops his arms, shoves back against Dean.

“Ah, don’t be like that, Sam.” Dean spreads his knees around Sam’s hips, hooks his stubble-rough chin over Sam’s shoulder. “Not like it’s news or anything. You always get worked up and squirmy when you’re loaded.” 

“Fuck you, Dean,” Sam grumbles and tries to shy away from the long press of Dean’s chest against his back, that butter smooth cotton a barely-there barrier between his skin and Dean’s. Fuck, he can feel Dean’s nipples pebbled up against the blades of his shoulders, totally unfair and life-ruining. 

“Bet ya’d like that, huh, sport,” Dean says and turns his face into Sam’s throat, his lips catch-dragging and spit-tacky, warm and plush. “Body’s all worked up for some love-makin’ and big brother’s the only warm body around.”

Dean palms Sam’s waist and gives it a slight squeeze, fingers flexing around muscle and sinew, curving around and flattening over his abs. They tease further down, caressing the waistband of loose jeans, then skitter bump over denim until one hand is laid lightly over the bulge at Sam’s groin. 

“Fuck,” Sam groans and tilts his head back against Dean’s shoulder, humps his hips up awkwardly. One of Sam’s legs his folded up, ankle trapped under his thigh and circulation cut off so he’s got pins and needles in his foot. It hardly registers past the too-light pressure of Dean’s hand on his cock. 

“Hmm,” Dean hums thoughtfully, drags the soft wet flesh of his inner lip along Sam’s collarbone. “Probably not. But I’ll take care of you. Always take care of you, Sammy, don’t I?”

Sam gets a grip on Dean’s thighs, muscles pulled taut by the minor stretch, chest puffed out and heaving a little with panting breaths. “Yeah,” Sam agrees, eyelids fluttering, vision a little blurred and hazy, catching the warm lamp-glow across the picture of a lighthouse hanging on the wall. “Yeah, you do. Take care of me, Dean.”

Dean’s hands go to Sam’s fly, start down the row of buttons, popping them open one by one. The uncomfortable pressure on Sam’s hard dick easing slowly when is rises out of the gap in his jeans. “Into it, aren’tcha?” Dean mutters, mouthing and licking over and over the sharp line of Sam’s clavicle. “Bet you’d let me do anything, huh?”

“Whatever you want,” Sam gasps, arches back and turns his face into the dip of Dean’s bowed neck. “Just touch my dick, please, come on.”

Dean rumbles another low hum, rocking against Sam’s back in this slow, lulling rhythm. “Lie down for me, on your stomach, come on.”

Dean urges Sam where he wants him, gets him laid out on his belly, hard-on pressed to the mattress. Sam’s jeans and underwear are dragged down and off, leave him naked and bared and it’s so fucking hot, so hot that Sam’s humping the bed. He’s got no idea what Dean plans to do to him, but spreads his thighs anyway, makes the invitation known because he’d be more than okay with something in his ass right now, something to nudge right into his prostate and give him that extra edge. 

The heat of Dean’s body is gone for too long, but then Sam feels the shifting of the mattress, Dean kneeing up behind, into the spread of his legs. “Y’re fuckin’ slutty, aren’tcha?” Dean says and lands a playful slap on Sam’s flexing ass. 

Dean falls against Sam’s back, propped with arms crooked on either side of Sam, caging him in and pinning him with hot, heavy, _naked_ flesh. “Wasn’t gonna fuck you,” Dean admits right in Sam’s ear, nips the lobe and sucks it. “Thought I’d just give you a couple of my fingers, play around in your hole while I stroked your dick. But, fuck, you want it, don’t you? Want my cock in you, Sammy?”

With a tilt of his hips, the long, hard length of him rides Sam’s crease, grinds right between his cheeks with a churning swivel. For the first time, Sam wishes he wasn’t so drunk, wishes he wasn’t half-mad with arousal ‘cause he’d like to see it, like to get his face right between Dean’s legs and learn every inch of his dick. He bets it’s pretty, feels all big and smooth, tip leaking into the crack of his ass. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Sam nods into the bedspread, sweaty hair smashed over his forehead. Sam screws his eyes shut and spreads a little wider, pumps his hips and hisses. The material is rough on his dick, but it’s a sort of pleasant pain, the kind that gets his balls tighter. 

Sam loses Dean’s heat again when he pushes back, but then there are strong hands on his hips, dragging them off the mattress. Sam whines a little when he also loses the pressure on his dick, but Dean is shoving his knees up under him, getting Sam’s thighs all sprawled around the wide spread of Dean’s lap. _Jesus._

There’s the faint sound of a cap snicking open, then one slick finger circling the tight clench of his hole. Sam gasps at the cold, moans at the first press in and he shoves right into it. “Fuck,” Dean curses. The whole of one finger snugged all the way in, down to the knuckle, but not near enough for Sam. “Take it so fucking easy, don’t you? You always this easy, Sammy?”

Sam’s gripping the bedspread, humping himself on Dean’s finger and shaking his head. “Only when I’m drunk,” he barely gasps. “More, come on, gimme another.”

Dean pulls all the way out, gets back in almost as fast with two and more slick. There’s a little more stretch for Sam to hiss his way through, and the fingers in him start to turn, start to rub. They glance over his prostate and leave him keening, grunting. Dean teases him for a minute, twisting and scissoring, pulling against the tight rim. “Oughta get you drunk more often, Sammy. Never knew you were such an easy fuck.”

Frustrated and well-past ready, Sam levers up on his forearms, shoves back on Dean’s hand. “Stop fucking around, Dean, you fucking tease.”

Getting his free hand in the center of Sam’s back, Dean slams him back to the bed. “Bossy fucking bottom,” Dean snaps, twists his fingers roughly and curves so cruelly against Sam’s sweet spot that he shouts, balls jerking and dick leaking a long dribble of precome. “You want it so bad? Maybe you should ask me nice.”

“Please,” Sam gasps immediately, shamelessly. “Please, Dean, _please_.”

Dean, the bastard, gives a breathy laugh and pulls out so fast Sam about collapses against the mattress. He wasn’t even aware of how strung out he was, every muscle in his body stretched to a snapping point. It almost hurts to go loose so quickly. It makes him a little dizzier, but Sam doesn’t get the time to reorient himself before Dean’s at him again. This time the pressure is thicker, wet rounded tip of Dean’s dick popping right past his rim and slicking all the way in a long, nasty slide. 

Sam chokes on a groan, filled up so fast and so full. Every inch is shoved deep, so thick and amazingly strange, stretching his ass wide open. “Fuck,” Sam grits out, feels a slow shift in him, hard flesh gliding through the lube, caressing every sensitive nerve of his insides. 

“ _Yeah_ ,” Dean groans and gives a slow, deep thrust. “Feel so fucking good, baby. Look at you. Takin’ it so sweet, Sammy.”

That said, Dean really starts in on him, gives it to him real good with these hard, even pushes. Sam sags against the bed, loose and pliant, splayed wide for Dean and getting nailed nice and hard. Dean’s cock moves in him, faster and faster, thick and long enough to get his prostate almost every time. It’s just what Sam needed, just what he’s wanted for years now, to get that little bit closer to Dean. Can’t get any closer, Dean rutting hard into Sam’s guts and moaning all through it. He’s still babbling dirty-mouth words, the word ‘brother’ laced all throughout and that’s the filthiest one of ‘em. 

Sam gets a rhythm of his own, tilting back, humping into each shove. Dean moves through the slick so smoothly, each pass getting longer, coming faster ‘til they’re both frantic with it, fucking each other fast enough their skin is slapping. Sam’s dick is bobbing beneath him, dripping and so goddamn blood-thick it’s starting to ache. One good stroke and he’d go off, but Dean has him pinned under both hands, palms fitted to the blades of his shoulders. 

“Wanna come, Sammy, huh? Ready for it, baby? I’m gonna blow so hard for you, fill you up.”

“Please, please fucking touch me,” Sam begs, so worked up he’s got tears in his eyes. He’s close, so close just from Dean screwing him, skimming the crown of his awesome, amazing dick right over Sam’s prostate again and again. He just needs one little touch, and finally, _finally_ Dean gives it to him. He keeps Sam pinned with one hand and the other skirts around the sweat-wet curve of his hip, gives him a stroke while he pounds at Sam’s ass. That’s it, over and done, Sam comes and comes hard, spurts his soul out of his dick, arching and bending under Dean’s hold.

Impossibly, Dean speeds up even more, twists in good and deep, fucks him through the aftershock and a little bit longer still. Sam’s done for by the time Dean finishes, so he feels every bit of it, feels the way Dean uses his hole, all furious thrusts shoved way too deep, until he’s stilling. Dean’s pelvis crushes right into Sam’s ass, jerking and shivering while he gets off with low, shuddering groans of Sam’s name.

It’s not until Dean starts to go soft, collapses against Sam’s back and smooshes him flat to the bed, that Sam feels the warm squelch in his ass. Dean’s come is swishing around his insides, easing the slight shift of Dean’s dick still in him. 

“You fucker,” Sam mumbles into the bedding. “You didn’t use a condom.”

“What, you’re worried I’m not clean?” Dean slurs back dazedly, head hanging over Sam’s shoulder, cheek to cheek, front to back, still connected at all points. 

“No, just not excited about having to clean your come out of my ass,” Sam grumbles, but he’s not really too annoyed. He’s too blissed out on sex endorphins and booze to really care. 

“Mmm,” Dean hums, and that seems to be a running theme here when Dean is drunk and happy. “I’ll do it for you, sweetheart. Lick it right out of you.”

Sam grins fast and wide, eyes fluttering, all sleepy and fucked out. “God, you’re filthy.”

Dean’s only answer is a soft snore and, damn, Sam’s gonna have to throw him off. In just a second he will, after he rests his eyes a little.


End file.
